


Receiving The Music

by PSFPS



Category: Pellinor - Alison Croggon
Genre: Blood Kink, Consentacles, If you don’t like this stuff don’t read it, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mod Micha, Other, Pain Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking, dark!Hem, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PSFPS/pseuds/PSFPS
Summary: Nyanar gives Hem the Music, but he does it in a way that is... unconventional, to say the least. Much like Hem himself.





	Receiving The Music

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so please look at the tags and if you don’t like those, then please don’t read this. Otherwise, go ahead and enjoy, my sinning children. — Mod Micha

Hem faced the Elidhu in the tapestry with a detached type of interest. “You think that me and Maerad are going to be the two halves to make the Song a whole?” He asked, mouth tilting up. He liked this thing, with its power and knowledge. 

It nodded, moving one long, leafy, hand to cup the boy’s face, bark leaving gentle scratches. “The Song and the Music were ripped from each other, and you and your sister will be the ones to put them back together.” 

“And how will I know the Music or the Song?” Hem asked, raising an eyebrow as he tilted his head against the rough hand of the forest spirit. It was reassuring, in a way, that something could still bring him down and harm him. 

“I can give you the Music, as your sister seeks the Song, but it will not be an easy thing, my little riik.” Riik, meaning crow in the Speech. Was that his True Name? He didn’t know, and he was more focused on the fae-like being in front of him. 

“I did not expect it to be easy.” He said, meeting the gleaming yellow eyes before him. It still had not moved its hand. “But I do not think that you will make it terribly painful.” It laughed, and he nearly fell to his knees from the sound. 

It brought forth all good memories, innocent things from his childhood, evolving into darker things as he grew, showing him memories of pulling wings off of insects, then of laughing at other boys’ pain in the orphanage, it most vividly showed a memory he’d come to treasure — his first kill, the boy named Mark. They’d been somewhat friendly, but he had killed him in the end, despite the fact that he refused to do what the Hulls had asked of him. Instead he’d spent his time exacting a degree of vengeance on the boy, taking what he felt was due to him from the orphanage. The flood of memories ended with him standing in front of the Saliman, bearing the stench of death and blood, grinning with sharp teeth and assuring there was nothing to worry about, especially from any bandits on the road. 

“The action I intend to use to give you the Music is most often associated with pleasure, but doubtless you will enjoy the pain of it more.” The Elidhu whispered, crossing out of the tapestry and spilling grass and vines over into the room, ivy creeping up the walls all around them and thick, soft grass growing over the stone table despite the lack of nutrients. 

Hem was left breathless as the rough hand moved to grip his neck in a sudden motion, sharp edges of nails Hem hadn’t seen digging into the sides of his neck. He was aware of his body releasing a flood of endorphins, his trousers straining across his waist. He felt himself be lifted into the air, and for a moment he dangled there, gasping before vines came and wrapped under his arms and around his legs, lifting him up and moving him backwards. He was deposited on the table, the vines pulling his arms up above his head and wrapping around his wrists, trapping his arms, he let out a sharp exhale, tensing his muscles as he tried to figure out what would happen next. 

“Relax, I will do nothing that you do not give me permission for. Do I have consent to removed your clothing? And after that, may I do as I please within a reasonable limit?” The words were growled, only the first sentence having any hint of compassion. 

Hem let out a high-pitched chuckle as best he could, breathing in the smell of of forest and musk all around him. “You have my permission on both things.” He breathed, and let his head fall back, trying to ease the scared tension from his body. He may have hurt and been hurt in the past, but he had never tried anything like this. Doubtless, though, that the Elidhu knew what he would enjoy better than he did. 

His shirt was undone button by button, and vines pulled his trousers down his legs slowly, and he gasped when his cock was freed from the constraints of fabric. Soft, teasing vines ran up and down his body, making him shiver. When his pants finally slid over his ankles and down to the floor, he let his legs be spread so the the Elidhu could move between them, pushing his shirt open and exposing his chest to the cool air. His instincts screamed for him to move, to fight, that it was wrong to be so vulnerable. That he should fight for dominance and utterly annihilate this being when he gained it.

He hushed them with a sharp thought as he tried to maintain his breathing, watching as the Elidhu leaned over him, placing his mouth next to Hem’s ear, breath ghosting over it, before a tongue flicked out to lick along the curve of his ear and he gasped, shuddering. The sensation was strange, but not gross, as he thought it might have been. 

“Doubtless you will be calling my name before the night is over, my bloody little boy. You do not know my name now, but now is a good time to learn. Nyanar. Say it, _riik_ , say my name and I’ll give you everything you need to go forward in your quest.” The voice in his ear was deep and dark, rough with what he assumed to be lust. 

It took a moment for him to get out the word, and when he did it was a deep, breathless one let out with a rush of air. “Nyanar.” 

The was a sound of approval as it lifted back up, smoother vines crawling up from the ground to ghost over his thighs, teasing touches that left him even more breathless than he had been. They came to rest in the curve of his ass, something Hem had expected from the moment he’d been placed on the table. They were puckered, he noted as one rose to his lips, and they excreted a type of slick fluid. He opened his mouth, scraping his teeth along it as it slid in, testing the give. If he could bite down he would, just to see if it would get him punished. 

The sharp sting of being slapped on the inside of his thigh by a thin vine followed, and he let out a desperate sound, biting hard this time. There was a quick succession of swats, leaving bright red welts on his legs as he whimpered and writhed, wanting _more_. Hem wanted to _bleed_ and _ache_ and _scar_. He wanted to feel it for days, so that he could always remember that he’d been held down and dominated. His cock rested against his stomach, precum pooling under the head as he writhed in search of contact. 

“Nyanar,” he gasped out. “Please, stop teasing me.” As he spoke, a thin, slick vine slid into him, making him squirm at the strange, too-slick sensation. The vine pressed against his insides, brushing a spot of nerves that made Hem whine low in his throat and arch his back, wanting more. 

It pressed against that spot as two more thin vine slid into him, making him bite down harshly on the one in his mouth. It hurt, and he wasn’t going to put up with it. The bite earned him several sharp swats across his thighs, one of them making him bleed shallowly. He groaned, tugging his hands and trying to free them, not caring when the vine surrounding his wrists only tightened to the point they cut off circulation. 

“I know you want more, little one, but do you truly desire that pain? I can give it to you, if that is what you wish.” The rough voice was dark and low, and made Hem pause and think for a moment, wondering if he _did_ want the pain from being stretched too quickly and fucked too roughly. After several moments in which the vines inside of him had slowed their movements and the one in his mouth withdrew, he nodded. 

“As long as you don’t make me bleed when you’re stretching me, I want the pain.” He said, setting a limit that his gut told him the Elidhu would respect. After the words left his mouth he felt his hold being stretched open fast and rough, slicked by whatever the vines were secreting. He gasped, clenching down and reveling in the pain it brought him as the first one continued the assault on his prostate. 

He lost himself in the mixture of pain and pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him, letting himself relax and be used by Nyanar. It was so different to not be the one in control of the situation, to let someone hold him down and trust them not to harm him. Everything in him screamed to fight and claw and try to get away, but he pushed it down and let his body be used. A sharp jolt of pain made his eyes snap open, and he blinked, not realizing he had closed them. 

“Are you ready?” Nyanar asked, and Hem realized he was stretched and gaping, a burn of pain radiating softly from his ass. The somewhat gentle tone of the question informed him it wasn’t the first time it had been asked, and he sucked hard on the vine in his mouth in response, running his tongue around the tip of it. It spurted thick, sweet slick when he did, and he swallowed it down eagerly, the taste of it better than he had imagined. 

Nyanar slid into him roughly, sinking in to the hilt and not giving Hem time to adjust before setting a harsh pace that had the boy gasping. The bark-like skin of the Elidhu left scratches on him, some shallow and some deep enough that blood welled up in them, stinging and bright red. He bit down again, reveling in the quick blows that made his eyes water and hands clench into fists. The rhythm built his orgasm quickly, and he could feel himself tensing and writhing, biting down to feel more pain. 

And then Nyanar was leaning forward, golden eyes gleaming and mouth open, exhaling into Hem’s ear, and he was thrown into a sea of music. He felt as though his body was woven of light and made of a melody that contained all dissonance, trembling on the edge of silence; it was beautiful and unbearable, beyond human capacity. He was drowning in it, like a ship crashing against waves of pure sound, and his only anchor was the presence of Nyanar, nothing more than a speck in the midst of it all and yet overwhelming and larger than life at the same time. 

The next moment, it was gone, and he was left with the memory of the music, sharp and cold and beautiful beyond anything else in the world. His body was shaking, lax in Nyanar’s grip and he realized vaguely that he had came, and so had the Elidhu, pulling out to paint his stinging ass in thick cum. He was floating in his mind as he was cleaned off and his wounds were treated, not caring about anything other than the rest he was finally getting. 

When he woke, it was on cold stone and Nyanar’s presence in the room gone without a trace. Hem knew that the music he had felt and heard was the Music for the Song; would be what he played when he and Maerad saw each other after she found the Treesong. He could only hope that he would see Nyanar before then, if only to thank him for the Music.


End file.
